Disclaimer: Based on the series Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon. All
characters copyrighted by Naoko Takeuchi, Toei Animation, and Kodansha.
The characters of Ranma ½ are the express property of the
most benevolent queen of comedy, her Highness, the revered Rumiko
Takahashi and Shogakukan. I am in no way claiming or even pretending
to own these characters. The rest belong to me.

Chapter 5

Near Saotome Dojo,
Juuban

Ser-en-dip-i-ty, n. the faculty
of making desirable discoveries by accident.
Also known as: happenstance, a twist of fate, etc.
Ant: coincidence, luck, fluke, etc.
Intrinsically tied to Fate, Destiny, and the Kharmatic Order of
the Universe.

There are those who believe that there is no such thing as coincidence.
They believe that all things happen because they are meant to happen.
In some ways they would be correct; and yet, on the flip side, there
are things that happen "just because".

In the case of a beautiful young orphaned woman traveling with
a group of her friends Well, her life, it seemed, was ruled
by Fate. She had seen more than enough serendipitous events in her
short life not to discount Destiny; she just wondered when Fate
and Destiny were going to bring her a hunky boy to share her life
with.

Tonight Fate was going to bless her with a beautiful gift. True,
it wasn't the handsome boy that she wanted, but it was going to
be someone almost as good….

Makoto felt an uneasy sense of déjà vu as she walked
down the street beside Dr. Mizuno and her friends. Everything felt
oddly familiar as she passed signs and shops, almost as if she had
been down this street many times before.

Makoto had finally been pulled out of her reverie as she listened
to Usagi's rather rousing — and more than likely exaggerated
— recount of their rescue. Yuriko didn't even bat an eye when
she got to the part about Ranma glowing, or at the end when he supposedly
jumped up two stories from a dead standstill. If Ami hadn't confirmed
it, Makoto would have chalked that part up to Usagi's flare for
drama.

Makoto could tell that Ami was still reeling from the whole episode.
But, she guessed, if some really hunky boy had just come to her
rescue and swept her off of her feet, she probably wouldn't be all
that coherent either. Makoto sighed, wondering when it would be
her turn. She was so lost in thought that she nearly plowed into
Yuriko as the woman stopped before a gate.

"Well, ladies, here we are." Yuriko fussed a bit with
the collar of Ami's blouse, much to her daughter's silent annoyance.
"Is everyone ready?"

Usagi seemed to glow with eagerness, but Ami looked like she was
about to bolt. Makoto couldn't say that she blamed her. The tall
young woman felt a chill run down her spine as she looked up at
the sign above the gate.

Bittersweet memories flooded her mind as she studied the faded
wood of the gate: memories of a beautiful woman that she had wanted
more than anything to be her new mother….

Marut had found them easy enough. The purity of their magic stood
out like a beacon in this gray, technological world. The only question
now was how to proceed. Indra's orders had been explicit: watch
— nothing more, and nothing less. But in light of who he had
discovered, the shadowy Rhakshasa wondered if that would even be
possible. The temptation to throw himself at the Ice Witch was so
great that his whole frame trembled in anticipation.

The Rhakshasa were known to take many forms, and legend had it
that they could not be harmed by conventional means. Magic, however,
was very effective in damaging them; so much so, in fact, that once
such wounds were inflicted, they could not be healed. Marut had
come to understand this fact intimately when a young Senshi of Mercury
had faced off against him. Her weapon had scarred him for eternity,
leaving a jagged, never-healing wound on his beautiful face. His
right eye was forever blind, forever experiencing the pain she had
inflicted upon him when the wound was made.

He loathed her and everything that she stood for. The only restraint
holding the demon at bay was the knowledge that should he openly
move against the Senshi Well, his brethren had never been
the forgiving type. The last thing that he wanted was to suffer
at the hands of his kith. Their creativity when it came to torment
was as legendary as the Rhakshasa's appetite for human blood.

There would come a time, preferably when she was alone, that he
would arrange for an accident to befall the Ice Witch. He smiled
hungrily at the thought.

Nerima

"Mirror, mirror "

Nabiki stared into the hand mirror and examined her almond-shaped
eyes. Their hazel color seemed more vibrant than it had been
deeper and keener in more ways than they should have been. They
reminded her of deep forests and secret places that time could not
touch. It was terribly unnerving.

For eighteen years, she had woken up and been greeted by a pretty
human face in the mirror. The face that looked back at her now wasn't
the one that she had grown up with. There were familiarities; the
shape was vaguely the same, though a tad leaner than she remembered.
Her trademark grin remained, although her lips seemed a bit fuller.
Yet for all the familiarity, the elf woman in the looking-glass
was a stranger.

"Who are you?" she whispered. Her ears twitched subconsciously
as she settled her chin atop her hands.

She felt like an alien inside her own body.

"A beautiful young woman named Nabiki Tendo," Kasumi
said matter-of-factly, setting a bundle of folded laundry on the
bed.

Nabiki exploded. "How can you be so damn calm about this?"

"Do you have to ask?" Kasumi smiled. She stared at her
sister for a moment and then shrugged.

After having lived with an aquatransexual and being subject to
all of the insanity that followed Ranma, Nabiki could see her point.
Still….

"I talked with Mrs. Harada's dog tonight," Nabiki said
casually. Kasumi nodded and started hanging some of Nabiki's clothes
up.

"What did he have to say?"

Nabiki shook her head. Leave it to Kasumi to take everything in
stride.

"He complained about all the noise. Then he started ragging
on Ranma, and asking after Akane."

"Well, he is an older dog, Nabiki. The noise must hurt his
ears." Nabiki couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.
Kasumi paused and looked at her sister with a raised eyebrow. "Did
I say something funny?"

Nabiki did her best to calm the giggles, but for a full minute,
found that she could only wave at her big sister. When she finally
brought herself under control, the pointy-eared Tendo, smiled lovingly
at her sister. "Has anyone told you how great you are?"

Kasumi blushed and resumed her task. "I don't feel so great," she
whispered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kasumi paused again and sat herself down on the corner of the bed.
She studied her little sister for a very long time before sighing
and standing up again.

"Oh, no you don't. I'm not letting you get away with that.
What is it?"

Kasumi began to wring her hands in her apron, and shook her head.
Nabiki was afraid that Kasumi was going to close up again, but the
oldest Tendo daughter slumped back to her seat on the bed.

Nabiki could read the posture well enough, not to mention the errant
thoughts that were slowly seeping through the heavy mental wall
that she had erected. "I can't believe it!"

"Well, okay. Maybe a little." She smoothed her apron
absently, trying her best to avoid looking at Nabiki.

"Incredible," Nabiki said shaking her head.

"What?" Kasumi looked up at her sister curiously.

Nabiki stood and moved over to the full-length mirror on her door.
The expression on her face was carefully neutral, but she couldn't
hide the dissatisfaction in her eyes.

"I can't believe that you're jealous of this." She gestured
at the stranger staring back at her in the mirror. Kasumi smiled
and moved up behind her sister, resting her arms lightly on Nabiki's
shoulders. "I can't even go out in public any more! My career
is shot! What's there to envy?" Her ears seemed to wilt with
her mood.

"Well, now. Let's look at this picture, shall we?" The
elder Tendo daughter ran a delicate finger over Nabiki's right ear.
"Number one: you can converse intelligently with animals. Number
two: You've got a better figure than Shampoo ever thought of having."

Nabiki blushed a bit, but consented the point. She had shed fifteen
pounds, all in the right places, and her body had sculpted itself
to near perfection. She turned slightly, appraising herself in the
mirror.

"Number three," Kasumi said quietly, returning to her
seat on the bed. "Since becoming Ranma's fiancée, you've
had more adventures than I will ever experience in my lifetime."

Nabiki could only stare at Kasumi for a long time. More of her
sister's secret thoughts began seeping into her mind. Dreams, fantasies,
and quiet regrets; but none impacted the Huntress more than the
lack of freedom that Kasumi's heart yearned for. Being shackled
to the sidelines while she played the responsible one. Couldn't
they see that she wanted to be in on the fun too?

"Careful what you wish for, Kasumi-chan." She couldn't
suppress the shudder that went through her body. "Careful what
you wish for."

Saotome Dojo
Juuban

"Welcome to our home." Nodoka's smile was warm and welcoming
as she opened the door to admit her guests. Yuriko's grin was a
giddy mix of silliness and excitement that made Nodoka want to laugh.
The group of women bowed politely as Nodoka ushered them into the
house.

Yuriko entered first, leading the procession. As she passed Nodoka,
she gave her friend a warm hug of greeting. Ami followed demurely,
carrying a small present; and Nodoka made it a point to hug the
young woman as well.

"Ami-chan, you're become such a lovely young woman!"
she said, pushing the young woman out to arm's length.

"Thank you, Auntie." Ami blushed as Usagi giggled behind
her, but took everything in stride. Nodoka looked a little ashamed,
and quickly changed the subject before she embarrassed Ami further.

"Please, introduce me to your friends."

Ami was more than relieved to direct everyone's attention onto
someone else. "This is Usagi Tsukino, Auntie." Usagi bowed
politely, smiling brightly. Nodoka returned the gesture and smile,
then turned her attention to the second young woman. " And
this is Makoto Kino. Both attend classes with me at Juuban High
School."

Nodoka's eyes grew wide as the name registered. She examined Makoto
from head to toe, finally settling on the bright teary eyes that
smiled back at her.

"Ayame-chan?" Her throat was constricted and so the words
tumbled out in a whisper. Makoto nodded and bit her lip in order
to keep from losing what little control she had left. Nodoka reached
up to touch the young woman's face, to be sure that she wasn't dreaming.

Behind her, Usagi and Ami looked at Yuriko, who simply shrugged.
The good doctor had no idea what was . Wait a minute.
"Ayame-chan?" Recognition hit home immediately. How could
she have been so blind? She laughed happily, causing everyone to
jump. Nodoka and Makoto looked at each other, then looked at Yuriko.
There was a moment of silence as all three seemed to share some
private revelation before the laughter started anew.

Ami shrugged her shoulders and smiled happily. "Something
good." She sighed and settled herself on the step that led
into the house, watching the scene unfold. She smiled at the three
women and rested her elbows on her knees. Her chin plunked down
to rest in her palms as she watched the reunion. Usagi plopped down
beside her, mimicking Ami's posture.

"What did I miss?"

A sudden chill swept down Ami's neck and back at the sound of that
voice, causing her to shiver uncontrollably with delight. Usagi
shrieked and leapt off her seat, backpedaling until Yuriko was forced
to catch and steady her. Ami looked up slowly, and met the pair
of blue-gray eyes that had started to haunt her dreams.

Ranma looked down at the young woman seated on the steps and stiffened
immediately. He had long ago learned not to believe in coincidences,
and the fact that he had met up with this same girl three times
in so many days Well, it was a sign of sorts. He wasn't sure
if it was a good sign, but it was still a sign.

The young martial artist tugged at the low collar of his black
silk shirt, and took a deep breath. Okay, two girls from yesterday,
plus a third that he wasn't familiar with yet. Not exactly okay
in his book, but manageable.

The fact that one of these girls was Mizuno-san's daughter
Now that was cause for worry. Mothers tended to like window-shopping
for husbands, and Mizuno-san had been giving him "the eye"
the other night. Pieces started to fall into place a bad sign.
Best to find out who the girl was and set this whole thing straight
as soon as possible. The blonde girl bore no resemblance whatsoever,
so she was out. The tall girl didn't have the build, and the facial
structure was all wrong.

Which left one person.

A really eerie chill ran down his spine as he looked down at Ami.
She smiled demurely and blushed, but for some reason she didn't
look away almost as if she couldn't.

Oh, crap.

Ranma swallowed visibly and smiled back. A vague memory surged
to the forefront of his mind, giving him the most disturbing feeling
that he knew this girl. Something about a library….

He looked to his mother, Dr. Mizuno, and the other girls; everyone
blinked once, twice, three times. It was such an eerie impasse that
Ranma decided that it would be in his best interests to simply make
himself scarce; the small room was so full of estrogen at the moment
that he feared they would somehow trigger his curse without even
resorting to cold water.

Yup. Definitely time for the Saotome Final Attack.

He smiled at them, they smiled back, and then he pointed to the
kitchen. "I'll finish setting the table."

Everyone nodded, watching him depart.

Nodoka shook her head and sighed. "Ranma, Ranma the
dining room is the other way ." Ami looked to Usagi, and
both exploded into fit of giggles.

Hikawa Jinja,
Juuban

Rei sat before the Great Fire and chanted the prayer. The flames
seemed to sense her agitation and danced wildly in the fire pit.
She had been at this for over an hour now, and her voice was weak
and raw with the effort.

Setsuna had set her the task of looking for the aftermath of Ur's
actions rather than trying to find the man himself. It was draining
to see all the destruction, especially of the village of women that
the Rhakshasa had destroyed.

"How much longer shall we look?" Michiru asked calmly,
looking into her mirror.

"Until I see some pattern that we can exploit," Setsuna
said coolly.

Haruka snorted and took hold of Hotaru's hand. The little girl
had grown much over the last two years, and looked more like a sixteen-year-old
than the thirteen-year-old that she was.

"Call us when you find something worthwhile," Haruka
called over her shoulder. "Hotaru-chan and I are going for
something to eat."

"Traitors." Michiru mock pouted. Hotaru smiled at the
aqua-haired woman and waved, knowing full well that there was no
way that she could get out of going. Haruka, for her part, grinned
at her lover and blew her a kiss.

The pair almost made it through the door when Rei screamed and
threw her head back in agony. The fire before her collapsed in on
itself, plunging the room into complete darkness. Setsuna scrambled
over to Rei's side immediately, and placed her fingers on the young
Miko's wrist to check for a pulse. The green-haired woman hissed
and drew her hand away from the young priestess.

"Is she all right?" Hotaru asked quietly.

"Her skin feels like a burning coal," Setsuna whispered.
As if on cue, Rei's clothing burst into flames, immolating them.
A high-pitched bird's cry echoed throughout the hall, then sounded
a second and third time. There was a rush of air, and finally a
sudden stillness that made everyone nervous.

Michiru tackled Setsuna away from Rei's prone body just as a fountain
of flames erupted from her naked form. The fire danced above her
for a moment, forming itself into a highly detailed bird of flame
before jumping back into the fire pit. Soon the flames had returned
to normal, leaving Rei to shiver on the floor from a slight draft
coming through the open door.

Setsuna looked up to Haruka and Hotaru. "Go to Rei's room
and get as many blankets as you can." Hotaru disappeared immediately.

When Haruka had left, Setsuna began stripping.

"What are you doing?" Michiru said in confusion.

"The fire's stolen most of her heat. If we don't hurry, hypothermia
will set in." Michiru blinked. "Well?" Setsuna said
crossly as she slid out of her long skirt. "Hurry up! Do you
want her to die?"

Michiru blinked once more, the calmly began to disrobe. When both
were down to their underwear, they sandwiched Rei between them and
draped their clothing over them.

"What was that all about?" Michiru asked when they had
finally settled themselves. Setsuna was rubbing Rei's arms to get
the blood moving a little faster.

"Phoenix Mountain." Michiru blinked, uncomprehending.
Setsuna sighed, wishing that her teammates had full access to their
memories. "There used to be many kingdoms under Serenity's
rule, all of them scattered across the solar system, residing on
the planets that we represent. Each world had its own nations, many
of which you would deem mythical. Mercury's most notable was the
Horus, a class of winged Demi-Human that relished the heat that
the planet naturally provided."

Michiru was fascinated, and began to wonder what denizens had lived
on Neptune.

"The Horus, like many of the other planetary races, worshipped
their princess as a goddess, with Serenity being the Great Mother
of All." Setsuna wrapped her arms tighter around Rei, motioning
for Michiru to mimic her. The elegant woman complied.

"Ra was their last king, and in an effort to further his goddess'
influence, he set up colonies throughout the solar system. On Earth,
most of what is now Egypt was under the governorship of Ra's middle
son, Saffron. When Meta'lla was freed, and Beryl's army advanced,
Saffron himself wiped out a full legion of the Witch's forces, then
was driven to retreat with what little remained of his people to
a mountain in Northeastern China."

Michiru was fascinated beyond words.

"The most interesting aspect of the Horus was their immortality.
They were literally a race of phoenix dying, only to be reborn
from the ashes of the old. Saffron has been alive for 12,000 years,
and along with a few other appointees, guarding Ur's prison for
the majority of that time." She sighed. "It seems that
Prince Saffron has died and been reborn again."

"Well," Michiru said hopefully, "this is good news,
right? We have an ally against Ur and these demons of his."

Setsuna shook her head. "Not as simple as that. Saffron has
become a little unbalanced." Michiru groaned. Setsuna
fixed her with a cold glare. "You try living for twelve thousand
years in the main timestream and see how stable you remain. The
Horus live countless lifetimes. After a while, it starts to weigh
on you."

Michiru blushed and shifted self-consciously.

"Eeep!" Hotaru squeaked from the doorway, dropping her
load of blankets into a massive pile at her feet.

"Hotaru! Come on!" Haruka growled from behind. Another
large pile of blankets started nudging Hotaru forward, even as she
tried to pick up all the spilt blankets.

"Drape the blankets over us, then strip and join us."
Setsuna ordered.

Haruka's tower of linen toppled. She and Hotaru simply stood in
the doorway, frozen. Both women looked at each other and blinked.
"I had a dream about this once," Haruka said with a blush.

Hotaru and Michiru snickered.

"Haruka," Setsuna's voice seemed to drop the room's temperature.

"Yeeesss?" the shorthaired blonde said as she pulled
Hotaru over to blanket the trio on the floor.

"Shut up and do as you're told." Setsuna was all but
growling.

"Kinky," Haruka purred.

By the glare that Michiru offered Haruka, the racer knew that her
lover wasn't enjoying her jokes as much as she was.

Phoenix Mountain,
China

Indra staggered out of the rubble of Phoenix Mountain. It was evening,
which made him wonder just how much time had passed. It didn't matter
in the end; Ur was going to be terribly displeased regardless. The
Hunt leader began collecting the straggling remains of his people.

The Adityas, what was left of them, were all noticeably injured,
save for one figure: Yama. Mitra was dead, Dhatri was blind, and
Daksha, Varuna, and Ravi were nowhere to be found. A full three-quarters
of their force, dead and gone.

"RAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" Indra threw back his
tiger's head and vented his outrage on the hapless stones that littered
the ground around him. Great slabs of granite exploded, showering
the monster and kicking up a huge cloud of dust and debris. The
devastation lasted only moments, but the effects hung in the air
like a funeral shroud.

"Temper, temper," A deep, guttural voice whispered from
behind Indra.

Indra growled at the sound of the voice and slowly turned to face
his brother.

" Yama ."

Savitri and Surya instantly appeared at Indra's side.

"Are you finished yet, or should I come back later?" The
bull-headed beast looked down upon his brothers disparagingly; his
body held no evidence of damage or dirt.

"YAMA!"

"Such drama, brother! Such passion! Perhaps you should have
been a Kisseki Dancer instead of a General," Yama growled as
he casually stepped through the debris and dust. "Our brothers
might still be alive."

"TRAITOR!"

Indra threw himself bodily at the bull-headed Rhakshasa, intent
on destroying Yama. The ground shook with the fury of his passing,
but the tiger-headed demon was stopped within a foot of his tormentor
by Savitri and Surya. His burnt fur caused the horse-headed twins
to turn their heads away in disgust.

"Do not seek to push your failures off on me!" the beast
rumbled. "Your plan failed and cost us dearly."

"BECAUSE OF YOU!" Indra roared.

"Enough!" Dhatri chastened. The beast's head was a mangled
mess and no longer resembled anything remotely like the Eagle's
head that he had worn before. "Ur calls us to report."

Yama reached forth one massive hand and clutched Indra by the throat.
"Your Master calls. Go lick his boots." Savitri and Surya
immediately released their hold on Indra, allowing the demon the
opportunity to rake his deadly claws up Yama's midsection violently.
Blood sprayed the ground and hissed evilly, blackening the dirt
with its poison.

Yama howled in rage and raised his fist to crush Indra, only to
be held at bay by Ansa, Aryman, and Bhaga. Indra's ears flattened
against his skull and his eyes began to fade to black pits.

"You tempt a war, whelp," Yama snorted, "a war that
you cannot hope to win." A flash of black fire heated the air,
and the bull-headed demon was gone.

"I may not live through it, Yama, but I will see you dead
before I fall."

"Ur calls, Indra," Savitri whispered. "We must go
before Yama can undermine us in the Master's eyes."

"So be it," Indra hissed, and then the remaining Rhakshasa
vanished in pillars of violent black fire.

None of the beasts noticed the group of winged forms pulling themselves
from the rubble a few hundred meters upwind. Kiima carefully waited
before dragging the fully-grown form of her king from beneath a
large stone.

"How is he?" Jhuy, one of Saffron's elite, asked with
concern.

"Asleep, nothing more," Kiima assured. "How are
you and the others?"

"Bruised, a bit singed but nothing more."

"Good. Take Fehi and scout for survivors. We must be ready
to move in an hour regardless."

The warrior nodded and immediately took off.

"They may have left someone to watch for survivors, Lady Kiima."
Luong, a grizzled veteran of Saffron's guard moved forward and helped
her lay their monarch out flat.

"That is my hope, Luong." She smoothed back Saffron's
hair and sighed. "If a small contingent were to act as decoys,
then the rest of the survivors can move Lord Saffron to safety."
The grizzled soldier frowned, but made no comment. "Speak your
mind, warrior." Kiima was open to suggestions, to keeping the
bulk of her people alive.

"A foolish and wasteful plan, Lady," he grumbled. "Dividing
ourselves into smaller numbers may not be such a bad way to go,
but to send a group out as a decoy is murderous."

"What are you suggesting, then?" she asked quietly.

"Pick a place that we might rendezvous and then separate into
groups no greater than five." He made a scurrying gesture with
his hands. "The smaller groups increase the chance of survival.
A hundred tiny groups are a lot harder to track than two or three
large groups. It would ensure a larger number of people saved in
the end."

"He is correct, Kiima." Saffron's voice was weak and
tired, but was assured.

"My Lord!" Kiima and Luong bowed their heads reverently.

"Stop prostrating before me," he said quietly. "I
do not deserve your reverence."

Kiima and Luong shared a worried glance, then turned their attentions
back to Saffron.

"Look about you," the king gestured. "There are
no fires of rebirth!" Luong's brow furrowed, not understanding.
Kiima herself felt confused, which only heightened Saffron's depression.
"I have killed my people! The Horus have forgotten their eternal
natures!"

"My lord! I do not understand…." Kiima looked at
Saffron directly, hoping to catch a glimpse of his meaning. All
that she found there was a deep self-loathing.

"Of course you do not," he said bitingly. "But in
the name of Isis, I will teach you!" Saffron pushed himself
to a sitting position, and clutched his head against the sudden
vertigo.

"Gather the survivors, Luong, and see to it that they are
paired in groups of six. One healthy body for each of the injured."
Saffron settled himself back on his hands and breathed deeply. "Send
them off immediately."

Luong bowed. "Their destination, sir?"

"Tokyo. That is where Isis is, and that is where we shall
find hope."

Saotome Home,
Juuban

Dinner was a quiet yet tense affair that had Ranma on his toes
the entire time. Dr. Mizuno kept staring back and forth between
him and her daughter, confirming his earlier suspicions. It wouldn't
have been so bad if had been just her, but the blonde chick from
the night before was doing the same thing.

Then, of course, there was Ami herself, so cute and self-conscious,
sneaking glances every now and then. Ranma had caught her three
times now, and each time their eyes met, he felt his heart skip
a beat. The feeling that he'd met her before the train station grew
each time she laughed, or when she would push her hair behind her
ear. It was really starting to creep him out.

Then of course there was that Makoto chick. She was the only one
that offered him any familiar ground at all. She didn't hide her
dark looks or disapproving glaring at all. It was a hostility that
made him feel Well, at home.

Damn. He must be more screwed up than he thought.

It wasn't as if he didn't deserve the grief. This was the girl
that got jilted out of a loving home because of him. He didn't know
the rest of her story, but he could tell that she resented him for
being here. He hated fighting a battle on so many fronts.

"Makoto!" Ami looked at her friend scandalized. Usagi
gasped and Yuriko looked at Nodoka who simply sipped her tea in
silence. Ranma almost smiled at the bluntness of the question, as
he set his glass down.

"Does it matter?" he asked quietly. "I'm here now."

"It sure as hell matters, you insensitive jerk!" Makoto
said coldly. "Do you have any idea how much your mother suffered
without you here?!" Ranma had the decency to lower his head
in shame.

"It is not enough, Ami! Do you know how many times Saotome-san
cried herself to sleep over this guy and his dad?"

Ranma made no move to defend himself.

"Everyone suffers, Ayame-chan." Nodoka's voice was quiet,
and filled with a deep understanding that made Ranma wince. He drained
his glass of water and clutched it tightly to keep control of the
pain. The loaded statement silenced Makoto's protest even before
it found its voice. "Please do not judge Ranma too harshly."

Ranma's glass shattered in his hand at the pity in his mother's
voice, and the overwhelming emptiness in his soul. He wanted scream
and yell, but he kept everything silent silent as death.

He felt someone tugging lightly on his arm and looked over at Ami's
concerned face. He blinked a few times before the pain registered
in his palm. He looked down at the gash dumbly and sighed. Yuriko
immediately stood and moved to her daughter's side to look at the
wound as Ami gently took hold of his hand and began picking out
the glass.

Ranma couldn't help but marvel at how soft and gentle her hands
felt. Her skin was cool against his, and her brow was furrowed in
deep concentration as she carefully cleaned the glass from the bloody
gash. Usagi took one look at the red liquid and turned white before
turning herself away.

"Sorry, Mom," he said sheepishly. "I better go clean
this up."

Nodoka's concern melted away at Ranma's nonchalant attitude and
smiled in understanding. Makoto blinked at Ranma, then looked at
Nodoka, who merely patted her arm softly.

"Come on, Bruiser," Yuriko said softly. "Let's see
how many stitches this is going to take." Ranma winced and
sighed. The doctor smiled at how Ami refused to let go of the boy's
hand as the led him to the kitchen.

When the trio was gone from the room, Usagi slapped Makoto upside
the back of her head.

"Ow! What was that for?" she demanded.

"And people call me dense!" she hissed.

"Girls, please." Nodoka's voice was quiet, but firm,
causing both young women to calm themselves. "It's best that
this comes out now, rather than fester."

Makoto didn't quite know what to think of that, but held her peace.
She didn't think much of Ranma, and if she opened her mouth again
Well, there was no telling what might come out.

"Saotome-san?" Usagi's timid voice broke the moment of
silence.

"Yes, Usagi-chan?"

"Why does Ranma-kun look so sad?"

Makoto looked at her friend, genuinely puzzled. Had he looked sad?
She couldn't remember.

Nodoka looked towards the kitchen and took a deep breath. "That
is Ranma's story to share, Usagi-chan." She sipped her tea
quietly for a moment, before looking directly at Makoto. "But
suffice it to say that Ranma has suffered greater loss that I ever
have."

Ami was so focused on Ranma's hand that she barely registered her
mother's presence at all. It was so strong and callused, yet she
knew from experience how gentle his touch could be. She felt Ranma
tug gently, trying to get his hand back.

"Hold still, please," she said firmly. "There's
just one more piece." Ranma winced as she pressed on the wound
enough to push the piece to the surface.

"Gently, Ami," Yuriko chided. "You don't want to
make the cut worse by stressing the wound."

Ami pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. Her mother was right,
of course. She reached for the damp, bloody dishtowel and dabbed
at the wound gently, soaking up the blood.

"Look, you're gonna get your blouse all messed up," Ranma
protested. "This is nothin' ta worry about. Just let me get
the first aid kit, and everything'll be fine."

Ranma slumped dejectedly and pointed back towards the dining room.
It had been worth a try, but he should have known better. No use
fighting it; sooner or later he'd get stuck alone with Ami. Might
as well be now, before she got any funny ideas. "Mom can tell
ya."

Yuriko patted Ami on the shoulder and winked, causing Ami to blush
and focus on Ranma's hand again. On her way out, the doctor gave
her daughter a furious thumbs-up before disappearing through the
door. Ami did her best to ignore the gesture.

Yuriko popped her head back into the kitchen just long enough to
leave some parting advice. "Make sure you wash the cut out
again, Ami." And while she had her daughter's attention, she
added a silent and emphatic "Talk to him!" for
good measure.

Ranma tried to retrieve his hand again, but Ami refused to let
go. "Please, Saotome-san. Try not to move so much."

"It's just a scratch," Ranma said with a smirk.

Ami sniffed at Ranma's machismo. "A scratch that could easily
scar."

"I've got lots of those." Ranma shrugged. "What's
one more?"

Ami rolled her eyes and picked up the bowl of warm red water and
glided over to the sink where she dumped it. Ranma couldn't help
but notice how smoothly she walked, or the graceful way that her
skirt swayed back and forth.

Ranma shook his head and looked at the refrigerator. It was jam-packed
with colored scribbles and childish drawings. Yet another reminder
of his sins.

"Your mother is a wonderful woman," Ami said from the
sink. She held a hand under the tap, testing the water's temperature.

"Huh?" Ranma turned his attention back to the young woman.
Ami smiled and shook her head.

"Auntie. She's wonderful."

Ranma nodded and smiled. "She's more than that."

Ami started filling the bowl, nodding. After a moment, she dumped
the water and looked at Ranma. For a time she seemed to lose herself,
simply staring at him almost as if she were remembering something
from long ago. Her brow furrowed.

"What?" he said nervously. His statement seemed to jot
her from her reverie.

"N-nothing," she stammered, returning her attention to
filling the bowl with clean water.

"C'mon. A girl doesn't give a guy that kind of look for nothin'."
Ranma scooted to the edge of his chair and grinned roguishly. "Spill."

"Really, it's nothing," Ami protested. She set the bowl
aside and turned the tap off.

"Can't be nothin'. You're blushing."

Ami's blush deepened as she quickly picked up the bowl. A little
water splashed on the floor in front of her, and she stepped onto
the wet spot blindly. Her socks were immediately soaked and slid
out from underneath her on the slick tile.

Ranma blurred, catching her before she could hit the floor. The
water bowl was miraculously balanced on the index finger of his
wounded hand. The casual strength with which he supported her sent
shivers down Ami's spine — that, and the proximity of his face
to hers.

"You okay?" His breath was warm against her chin, and
Ami gripped his silk shirt unconsciously. His shoulder muscles were
taut, yet steady. Good Heavens! He held her as if she weighed
nothing at all!

Ami could do nothing but look into those stormy eyes. Something
about this all felt so right, that she couldn't bring herself to
move. So why, if it was so right, did he look so sad all of a sudden?
Without thinking she reached up and caressed his cheek. Her logic
centers threw up their hands in frustration, even as Ami's libido
did a victory dace. Finally they were starting to see some results!

Balanced as he was, Ranma could do nothing but stare back at Ami
in shocked wonder. Her hand seemed so familiar against his flesh
as if she had touched him a thousand times. It was so natural
so right so so .

"Here are the banda Oh!"

Ranma jumped at Yuriko's voice. The bowl slipped from its precarious
perch. He cursed and scrambled to stabilize it again, but it was
too late, the water hit anyway. The icy liquid soaked his hair,
and his view of the world changed. His clothes became baggy and
his body shifted and redistributed its mass. The waist and shoulders
shrank, the bust and hips expanded, and his face rounded itself
out and softened.

Ami coughed once as the water drenched her face and chest. When
she could see again, the young, handsome man that had been holding
her had been replaced by a busty, fiery-haired young woman.

The bowl clattered noisily to the floor, causing Ranma to wince.

Yuriko's eyes rolled up into her head, and she passed out on the
hard floor. Ami wanted to join her mother, but all that she could
see were the same stormy blue eyes from before. Only this time,
the pain and sadness were more evident, and tempered by an expectation
of rejection.

She had never seen anyone so lonely in her life and it hurt.

With a shaking hand, she reached up and touched the red head's
cheek again. When those blue eyes grew wide with surprise, she smiled.
The soul was the same; she could tell.

Idzumo,
Mother's Grove

Idzumo, or rather, "The Land of the Reed Plains", was
supposedly the first part of the earth to be inhabited after the
gods finished their creation. In those days the whole earth was
full of voices, singing and speaking the praises of the gods. After
a time, the Lords of the Earth no longer spoke the languages of
beasts or trees, and thus the language of the Earth was lost.

Lost but not forgotten. In the vastness of Idzumo, the trees
and flowers still spoke, and the songs of beasts still glorified
their gods. The old ways were revered, and ancient pacts were kept.

**He advances, Mother. Like an avalanche he moves forward.**
The voice was ancient, almost as old as Mother's, yet it held a
harder edge to it. This was a meeting of equals, a summit where
greater powers played their Great Games.

**This is already known to the Clan, Othepsis. Envoys have been
sent to find Serenity's Hope.** Mother's voice was calm and
confident as she responded to the large creature before her
or, that is, its spirit.

Its kind had not walked the face of the earth in their bodies in
a very long time, and their descendants had long since locked themselves
away in hibernation to await the return of their queen. Yet even
in sleep, dragons dream a waking dream, walking amongst the sons
of Adam and the Daughters of Eve.

Othepsis had seen the advent of Sahadriel, the Great Mother, in
many of his dreams, but until Shemue's breath woke the Queen of
Storms, none of his people could leave their prison home.

**I felt the Huntress' rebirth,** another voice conceded,
looking up to the sky. **But will he wake to
his role?**

Mother turned to address the third power pointedly; her voice was
filled with warning. **The choice will remain his, Uthiad. To
force him would be a worse calamity than the one we now face. Proceed
carefully if you must, but do not push him farther than he is willing
to go.**

**Saturn's daughters know their place, Mother.** Uthiad's
voice took on a haunting echo as she addressed Mother's concern.
**We are the beginning and the end; you and yours can dance as
you will in between.** Othepsis sighed and shifted uneasily,
as did many of the other representatives.

**We can be patient, Mother. We will avoid his dreams.**
The dragon's form shimmered and started to fade. **There are
others that we can focus on to give your Daughter aid.**

**As you wish, Othepsis ** Mother said. **Wake those
that you can.** One by one, the entities began to fade, leaving
Mother feeling empty.

"They don't seem to understand the dilemma very well, do they?"
a young Kenku said from the side of the grove. The other trees looked
down on the brash youth and rustled indignantly. The obscene gesture
that he threw them didn't go over well.

**How could they, Kawasemi?** Mother said tiredly. **Their
tribes are still trapped until their Avatars are awakened. Nothing
is certain for them, any more than it is for us.**

"So why not just bring Saotome here?" The young Kenku
settled his body down on one of Mother's great roots and looked
up at her mammoth trunk.

**All metal must be tempered, Kawasemi. If Serenity's Hope is
to succeed, he must learn. And he is not the only one, either.**
Mother's branches shifted, making a magical sound that seemed to
calm the grove. **Ranma must confront Ur alone, but the others
will be the vanguard that carry him to that battle.**

"So, when can I expect them to come knocking on my door?"

**I can only pray that it will be soon.**

The Palace of Seven Clouded Heavens,
China

The storm that raged over the Bayankala mountain range matched
its creator's mood perfectly: dark and violent. It had been countless
millennia since the former Lord of Atlantis had abused the elements
in such a manner, and the night's events gave him a reason for releasing
some of his stress.

Rivers flooded, and a forest in the eastern valley burned to mimic
Ahbrim Ur's blazing anger. Yet, to look at the despot, one would
never make the connection between the storm and the seemingly calm
man standing before the window.

A fatal mistake, indeed.

Dressed in a long open-fronted red robe, Ur stood unmoving as he
looked out onto the scourged countryside. Somewhere high above him
in the mountains, a lake reached its boiling point, sending up gouts
of steam and creating a cloudbank that surrounded and obscured the
peak. Forks of lightning dug hungrily into the earth and various
other objects — living and dead — with furious abandon.

The wind drove sheets of rain and hail down upon the unsuspecting
refugees that yet hid within the valley's confines. Their struggle
for survival had become that much harder since the breaking of dawn.
Ur didn't care about those that he had already crushed. He had the
Hunt to monitor those he considered pests and vermin.

His mind was occupied with other concerns — namely, the Horus.
The issue did little to change his plans for domination and conquest,
but it did add a certain something to the mix. He just
wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant.

He could still feel Saffron's flame burning brightly, and knew
that the Phoenix King yet lived which meant that there would
be resistance. But what could he do now? Indra was wounded, and
his other trusted generals were detained elsewhere; in short, there
was nothing to do. So, for the time being, he vented. Not openly,
for he had learned long ago that to lose one's temper meant losing
the battle. And one never knew which battle would win the war. He
would wait, and allow his anger to build into something more constructive.

The Lord of the Hunt was torn from his thoughts as a presence silently
entered the room. The power and scent of the newcomer was familiar,
and strangely welcome, despite the irritation that Ur felt towards
her.

Nothing suited Ur better than when a good dose of synchronicity
appeared in his life. One window closed, only to have another door
open. It was not the person that he needed to hear from, but she
would suffice. Perhaps this was a sign? He just hoped that the information
that Kali had procured about the current state of technology in
this world was worth the wait.

"You are late." Ur's voice seemed too controlled, even
to his ears.

For those who knew him, it was a warning sign. Luckily for him,
none of his new allies had gotten close enough to know him, a practice
that he meant to maintain. He did not turn to face the demon that
knelt at his back, much to Kali's shame and frustration. Instead,
Ur kept his eyes focused on a mountain far in the distance.

"Forgive me, my Lord." The black, panther-headed Rhakshasa
bent herself lower to the floor, in the hopes of at least appearing
humble. No matter what the Pashas said, she could not truly accept
this man as her leader. Humanity was a food source, not an equal.
The fact that this "human" was leading the Hunt was an
affront to her sensibilities. Ur knew this, Kali had no doubt.

Somewhere off in the distance, over three hundred bolts of lightning
blew the cap off a mountain. "What do you have to report?"
Again, Ur's voice seemed too calm, much like the eye of the hurricane.

"Magic is all but dead in this world, and the sheep have created
weapons based on the elements of fire and earth. Some are called
'guns', while others are more volatile." Kali's report was
delivered in a contemptuous voice for the pitiful weapons that humanity
had developed for their defense.

Or was the contempt directed at humanity itself? It mattered little
to Ur, just so long as he received the information that he needed
to reclaim all that he had lost. He would deal with Kali's veiled
arrogance after he had gleaned all that he could from the pathetic
creature.

A plan began to form as Kali droned on about some of the more impressive
devices that she had seen.

" the only true weapon that has been created is called
a 'thermonuclear device'. Its destructive power rivals that of the
Rhuk himself, and could easily wipe out one or more of the larger
cities." There was true respect in Kali's voice as she spoke
of this weapon, which intrigued Ur.

"How is it employed?" Ur's voice was almost casual in
its inquiry, a subtlety that the feline-headed Rhakshasa didn't
miss; and though Kali wasn't intelligent enough to read the nuance
for what it was, she knew enough about the man before her to be
wary.

Not that she thought the great and mighty Ahbrim Ur posed a threat
for one such as she — not in the least — but she was smart
enough to expect the unexpected. It was a shame that her expectations
fell so far from the true mark.

"The device comes in one of two forms. A projectile, or a
stationary artifice known as an explosive." Ur nodded and turned
to face the falsely humble Kali.

"This is good to know, Kali. You have done well." The
feline purred irreverently, an act that Ur chose to ignore. "In
light of your success, I have decided to grant you time to hunt
and feast as you will until I call on you again." He turned
away and ignored the female Rhakshasa until she grudgingly left
his presence. A chime sounded delicately, announcing the next order
of business.

"Come."

Shadows coalesced slowly — almost humbly, if such a term could
be appointed to the action — and from their depths materialized
the battle-worn body of Indra. The General's blackened fur could
not be cleaned, leaving him patchy and gray rather than the resplendent
white it had been. The poor beast bowed his head in shame, waiting
patiently for the deathblow to come — as if Ur was stupid enough
to cripple himself in such a manner.

His favored general was not the root of this problem, and Ur knew
this.

"Rise, Indra." Ur did not turn away from the window,
but heard the demon stand. "You expect me to kill you now."

"Yes, Lord."

"You feel accountable for the failure at Phoenix Mountain."
Ur turned from the window and looked down at Indra expectantly.
The tiger-headed general nodded simply, if not humbly. "You
are acting blind and foolish, then."

Indra made no move to agree or disagree with the Lord of the Hunt.
He simply remained bowed and silent. His heart, however, leapt with
joy.

"Did you honestly believe that I would not know of Yama's
treachery?" Ur stepped away from the window, and drew closer
to his servant. "You do your family honor by protecting him
from my wrath, but that does not mean that he will escape."

If Indra could have smiled, he would have. Ur motioned for him
to stand.

"Go. Return to the others and bring me news of their progress."
Indra nodded and seamlessly melted into the shadows. It was only
after Ur was certain that Indra had departed, that he seated himself
on his throne and called for Yama.

There was no response to his summons.

"Yama. Attend me," he called again. The storm's fury
grew when there was, yet again no answer. Ur's eyes narrowed dangerously,
and the Palace shook with his rage.

He clapped his hands twice and the air split with a loud thunderclap.
The stench of ozone hung heavily in the air, clinging to the cursing
form of the bull-headed Rhakshasa. Yama cursed and struggled against
invisible bonds that held him suspended, high above the shadows
that promised freedom. Shackled and bathed in a pillar of light,
the demon could do nothing but scream his curses at his captor.
Not that it did him any good.

"You have challenged me for the last time, Yama." Ur's
voice was even, devoid of malice or anger.

"I SPIT ON YOUR FETID SOUL, HUMAN!" The beast made as
if to fulfill his threat, but Ur gestured and the bull-headed Rhakshasa
found it impossible to breath, let alone move.

"I cannot understand your impertinence, Yama." Ur stepped
down from his throne and walked around the demon. "With my
freedom, you gained release from your own prison. Have you not feasted
upon the terror and souls of mankind, as you were promised? Were
not the shackles thrown off?"

"YOU BOUND US!" Yama roared defiantly. "You bound
us away from our brethren, and your whore sent what remained of
our empire to their doom against Serenity!"

Ur paused to study the demon thoughtfully before resuming his pacing.
"I see." He shook his head and pursed his lips. "This
is about revenge."

Ur circled Yama until he could look fully into the demon's black
in black eyes. "Do you know from what emotion vengeance stems,
Yama?" The man clasped his hands behind his back and pursed
his lip. "No? Allow me to enlighten you. This is a subject
that I am well acquainted with. I will do so in reverse so that
there can be no denying the truth of my words."

The beast struggled against his bonds, thrashing against the compressed
air that held him in place.

"You have an obsession, a hunger to right the wrong that was
done to you. This obsession was birthed in the fires of your sorrow,
and that sorrow was birthed at the loss of something that you held
valuable something, dare I say, that you loved?"

Yama snarled, and his great bovine mouth frothed with the need
to savage his tormentor.

"Yes, dear Yama. I accuse you of such profanity," Ur
said smoothly.

"LIES!"

Ur nodded his head and placed his arms behind his back, again bowing
his head.

"What would you call this attachment that you have for your
kind? Pride? In order for a being to entertain the notion of pride,
must they not first esteem something to be of great worth? Esteem
is a positive notion, Yama."

"I DO NOT KNOW OF LOVE!" Yama roared.

"Such protestations, demon against which I wholly contend.
I offer that you do know the emotion, but choose to lie to yourself
to hide the truth that indeed, you are not so very different
from humanity as you thought."

Yama roared again in denial, his mighty muscles again flexed against
the unbreakable bonds of Ur's magic.

"There are many forms of esteem, Yama. One is a condescending
sense of superiority that comes from possessing a thing: a weapon,
a favorite slave, etcetera. This is the foundation of obsession,
and for the most part is celebrated by your people.

"A second is a perverse sense of patriotism. It is an extension
of the first example, reveling in the superiority of the race or
individual. This esteem is commonly known as pride: the love of
self."

"You love yourself, Yama. You love your people. You feel the
emptiness of their loss, so you seek to revenge yourself against
the one that stole them from you. Did you not weep and wail and
gnash your teeth when you learned that it was I who had set you
free? I, the very man who prevented you from being consumed in Serenity's
last blow? I, the man who had originally bound you away?"

Yama fell silent.

"I can see that you did. But it is not for your people alone
that you wept — you wept for what humanity stole from the Rhakshasa.
They drove your forefathers into the shadows. They bound you and
hunted you. Humanity made you the monster that you are today. You
mourn for that time before time, when the world was young, and you
reigned supreme."

Ur needed no confirmation as he continued to plunge forward.

"I will tell you something more before you are punished, Yama.
I will reveal to you another dark truth. Have you ever wondered
how, after so long, that I was able to bind and seal your clan away,
when no one else could have hoped to defeat you?"

Yama's eyes widened as Ur moved past.

"I see that you already know some of what I will reveal."
Ur said smugly. His arrogant grin nearly drove Yama insane with
the need to kill the man. "I spoke with Pluto before my defection,
in the hopes of uncovering a fatal weakness in your kind."

His smile turned cold.

"It was here that I first saw the Moon Kingdom for what it
truly was: an empty, fulsome husk of arrogance and self-righteousness.
Did you know that the first Serenity was an even more pompous woman
than my Serenity? She was a jealous ruler, paranoid of losing her
power to any. It was one of the ironies of life that she was killed
by her own husband as he defended the daughter that would one day
inherit her throne. She created your people, Yama the author
of all your violent pride.

"In the later years of her life, when madness had finally
taken her mind, Serenity found a man whispering in her court. She
thought he was mocking her and plotting against her rule. In her
insanity, she had his family, every last one from elder to newborn,
brought before her.

"With the power of the Ginzuisho, she banished them to a place
where they could never threaten her. But that was not all that she
did. She changed them, stealing their humanity and marooning them
in a dark, evil dimension — a place that I believe you are
familiar with."

Yama screamed his denial, mourning the horrible truth that had
been revealed. Ur turned away and returned to his throne.

"Give my regards to the Silence."

And then, without warning, the pillar of light became a pillar
of fire. Yama's screams echoed long after his flesh had been consumed.
Ur contemplated the pile of ashes for quite some time before he
finally turned his attention to other concerns.

"Yes, Lord?" they said in unison. Their equine heads
shivered, causing their manes to ripple nervously.

"Aditri has lost a son today, and the remnant of the Twelve
shall suffer for Yama's pride." Both nodded solemnly. "I
give you the chance to redeem your family of your brother's arrogance."

Both nodded again, consenting to their master's desire, and the
chance to redeem their family's honor. It was enough to appease
Ur, for the time being. Both brothers understood that they would
have to sacrifice much in order to work their way back into Ur's
good graces.

"I am glad that you understand." He motioned and the
two stood before him. "Savitri, I charge you to acquire for
me a number of weapons called 'thermonuclear devices', and the knowledge
of their use."

Savitri bowed once, and after a moment, with no further instructions
from Ur, left the room in the same way that he had entered.

"Surya." The chilled wine felt good tumbling down the
inside of Ur's throat, like the taste of victory after a hard battle.
"You will go throughout the nations of this world and plunge
their governments into chaos. I care not how, but do not reveal
yourself. Let the world governments fall upon themselves while we
solidify our position. Do I make myself clear?" Surya nodded
once, and when Ur waved him away, he mimicked Savitri's earlier
departure.

Ur paced over to the windows again and began planning his next
step.

Saotome Home,
Juuban

Nodoka looked up in horror at the sound of the splash, pushing
Makoto's story into the background. A thousand images passed through
her mind at the thought of her son-turned-daughter facing off against
her best friend and her best friend's daughter. She couldn't just
up and leave Makoto and Usagi either. Not without making matters
worse, at any rate.

She'd have to run damage control, somehow….

The strangest thing was the fact that the normal sounds of panicked
shock were conspicuously absent. Either both women had fainted dead
away, or Ranma had somehow managed to evade the water.

Please! Oh, please! Just let it be the latter, she prayed
fervently. Usagi laughed reluctantly drawing Nodoka back into the
conversation. There was nothing for it; Ranma was on his own.

How do you find meaning in the impossible? This was one of the
questions that a rather unorthodox instructor had posed to Ami while
their juku was studying the Holocaust. When the world itself could
no longer fit the terms of reality, how could humanity define itself?

Since becoming a Senshi, she'd had ample opportunity to ponder
the question and had come to the conclusion that you had a choice:
to ignore the new reality and valiantly cling to the old, or to
embrace the new reality and adapt.

Time and again, she had followed the second path, adapting herself
to each new situation with controlled efficiency. Anything less
often resulted in pain, and in some cases even death. Feelings and
emotions could be ascribed later; the important part was fitting
yourself into a new reality as smoothly as possible.

So How did you adapt to a situation like this?

Her extremely handsome savior had just become an extremely attractive
buxom young woman. Her logic centers rallied to the new problem
with gusto. After feeling so neglected, they were more than ready
to put themselves to task.

Her mind worked doubletime as the young redheaded girl helped Ami
to stand. Okay, so what if he turned into a girl? That meant that
he had a unique perspective on women, right? He could understand
the difficulties and social idiosyncrasies that the modern Japanese
woman faced on a daily basis. That was a plus.

Ranma settled her into a chair and turned to the sink.

Ami was amazed at the change that had come over the young man
girl person before her. The predatory grace that Ranma had
displayed before became more fluid, if that was possible. The little
redhead reminded Ami of a ballet dancer, or perhaps a deer. It was
an unnatural grace, more beautiful than threatening.

Okay, point two: Ami could have a boyfriend and a girlfriend at
the same time . It took her mind a whole minute to wrap around
that concept or at least to sort out the true meaning of that
statement. After careful inventory, she safely determined that she
was not homosexual, and that the intent was to have a well-rounded
relationship .

Well-rounded? Relationship? Ami blinked. Her logic centers blinked.
Even Ranma blinked as she turned on the hot water.

"Everything okay?" the aquatransexual asked with genuine
concern. She tried her best not to look at Ami's sheer wet blouse.
And to some extent she succeeded. Ami's eyes were a nice distraction.

Ami blushed and nodded, then watched in fascination as the redheaded
girl upended a glass of hot water over her head.

The change was no less amazing than before. Limbs elongated, and
the chest sculpted itself accordingly. Feminine charm traded itself
for handsome masculinity. It was a magic that Ami was familiar with,
and yet was completely foreign to her. She must have been staring,
because the now male Ranma began to pat himself down.

"What? Did my clothes rip?"

Ami smiled and shook her head. "No. I just find it fascinating."
She turned her gaze from Ranma as he adjusted his pants again. "I'm
sorry. It's rude of me to stare." Ranma shrugged as sat across
from her.

The tabletop suddenly became very interesting to its occupants.

"I'm used to it." He looked uncomfortable for a moment
before turning his attention back to her. He explored her face intently,
probing for what she didn't know. His scrutiny seemed to last forever
and was beginning to make her feel self-conscious. The room's temperature
seemed to raise a few degrees as well. She needed something to divert
his attention.

"May I ask you a question, Ranma?"

Ranma looked at her, and then shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Are you a boy that turns into a girl, or is it the other
way around?"

Ranma looked at Ami's blushing face in surprise again. There were
a hundred and one different reasons for that question, and only
two of them seemed anything but innocent. The question was: which
form did she prefer?

Ranma wanted to slap himself for even thinking that. Not everything
revolved around women and men wanting him or her .

"Huh, that's a new one," he answered dryly. "Boy
to girl." He assessed Ami's reaction carefully, but wasn't
prepared for the relief that washed over the other girl's features.
He tried his best to push aside the hidden meaning behind the look
and proceeded to dress his cut. If he didn't make a big deal out
of it, maybe just maybe the whole situation would just
go away.

He snorted and flashed her a grin that pretty much put him back
at square one. Her blush seemed to heat up the room, forcing Ranma
to cough and turn away.

"Ami-chan, it's bound to come out sometime or another. I'd
just as soon you heard it from me rather than some rumor mill."
Ranma returned his attention to the makeshift bandage, and so missed
Ami's blush deepening further.

He just called me ‘Ami-chan'! A flock of butterflies started
squirming in her stomach. She had to do some hard thinking before
she was even able to respond coherently. She had to focus! Focus
on something safe! She had to distract herself um science!
Yes! She needed to collect data on the transformation. Data.

"What does it feel like?" She couldn't hide her eagerness.
But she really wasn't sure what made her feel more excited
seeing his winter eyes looking at her again, or getting insight
on such an amazing transformation. After all, he wasn't a Senshi
then again, Sieya and the other Starlights changed gender
hmmm. New angle.

Ami's logic centers went into overdrive.

Ranma looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know the feeling
you get when you foot falls asleep and you try to walk on it?"
Ami nodded. "Well, that's what it feels like when the water
hits. Then…" He gyrated his hands dramatically in a churning
motion. "…it's like everything's swapping places."

"What happens to all the excess mass?" Her question drew
a confused look from Ranma. "I mean, what happens to all the
extra weight? You don't look like you weigh the same as when you're
a boy." She'd always wanted to ask the Starlights about that,
but they didn't seem to change all that drastically. Ranma's shift
was amazing, to say the least.

Ranma laughed. "You know, I don't know. But it's a great diet
program." Ami chuckled a bit before Ranma continued. "I
lose about seventy pounds with the change, and I've noticed that
I'm much faster. It's an even trade, I suppose: strength and weight
for speed and quicker reflexes." He shrugged.

"Fascinating," she whispered. She took a deep breath,
causing Ranma to blush as deeply as she had earlier. He coughed
once into his hand and quickly turned away. "What is it?" she
asked. It took only a moment for her mind to notice the wetness
of her chest.

"Oh! Oh Oh my!" She cast about wildly for something
to cover herself with. She felt terribly embarrassed. Ranma seemed
even moreso, as he dug into a drawer and found a small hand towel.
He tossed it to her without looking.

"Sorry. I didn't look on purpose or nothin' really."
Gah! He hated it when stuff like this happened. Ami didn't know
whether to feel flattered or insulted. "Um. You can use one
of my shirts, or my Mom's. I'm sure that she wouldn't mind."
Ranma finally noticed Yuriko and rallied to a way to save face.

"You go on upstairs and change in`ta somethin' dry while I
take care of your Mom."

Ami blinked at the offer, then followed Ranma's gaze to her prone
mother. "Mother!" She quickly scrambled over to Yuriko's
side and began checking the woman over for injuries. After a moment's
inspection, she found nothing serious, much to her relief.

"Go on." Ranma placed his hand on her wet shoulder and
immediately felt a shiver at how warm her skin was beneath the cool
silk. "I'll handle things from here. My room's up the stairs
on the right. Just grab whatever."

Chills ran up and down Ami's spine at his touch, as she turned
to look up at him. She nodded once and then quickly left the room.
Her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest, leaving her feeling
weak in the knees so much so that she had to take the stairs
very slowly.

This was insane! How in the world could a man do this to her? She
tried to push her emotions aside and think about the whole situation
logically, but the fiery warmth of his hand still radiated on her
shoulder.

As she entered Ranma's room, she absently noted that it was very
spartan. No posters, a few half-full bookcases, some weights, and
a couple of framed pictures on the desk but little else. Ami
idly opened the closet, deeply curious as to what she would find
there. To her surprise, it was almost as empty as the room.

He must be so used to traveling light… she mused.
She browsed through the limited selection of shirts, noting how
utilitarian his wardrobe was. The casual, comfortable silk shirts
were all of the same style and loose fit.

A lot like Einstein, she thought with a smile.

She picked out one of the white shirts and promptly took off her
wet blouse. She continued to examine the room as she slid into the
shirt. It swamped her, making her feel like she was wearing more
of a dress than a shirt.

Her eyes settled on the photographs as she started to fix the buttons.

"Oh my word!" She paused, halfway done with the buttons,
to pick up a particular picture, and simply stared. The young woman
in the picture stared back at her. The resemblance was uncanny.

No wonder Ranma tended to stare at her!

Ami wondered who the young woman was as she set the frame down
and finished buttoning the shirt. From the looks of it, she was
someone special. A deep sense of disappointment filled her heart
at the thought of Ranma having a girlfriend.

I should be happy! She shook her head.

"It's not like I have time for anything else right now,"
she whispered, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in the shirt.
So why did she feel so empty all of the sudden? A light rapping
on the door caused her to jump.

"Yo, Ami-chan?" Ranma's voice quietly drifted through
the door.

"I'm decent." Ami marveled at how odd that sounded. It
was almost as if she were at home A brief daydream flittered
through her mind as Ranma entered the room. A home where she and
Ranma The logic centers immediately shut off all access to
the libido. This was way too soon for anything like that to be roaming
around.

Too soon indeed.

"Looks good on you."

" huh?" Ami was still disoriented from the small
coup on her warm and fuzzy fantasy to respond with any intelligence.

"The shirt," Ranma pointed out. "It makes you look
real cute."

Ami's mind nearly shut down. There was only so much sexual tension
and warm fuzzies that a girl could take in one night. Then Ranma
shrugged out of his own wet shirt.

Overload.

"Thanks," she said weakly.

Alarms went off in her brain as hormones began to flood the system.
Wet blanket after wet blanket was thrown on the raging fires that
were starting up everywhere. The logic centers enacted the emergency
protocols and tapped into the backup. They needed to work fast before
they lost the host system altogether to those barbaric hormones.

"Who is the young woman in this picture?" Ami blinked,
wondering where that question had come from. When she saw the empty
pain on Ranma's face, she immediately regretted opening her mouth.
Still the question was out. Ami wondered if this was the "Akane"
that he had mistaken her for at the train station.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked. Ranma simply shook
his head.

"You look so much like her. I mean, you coulda been her twin
sister. So close, and yet so different. Kinda like night and day."

Could have? What did he mean…?

"So who is she? A girlfriend?" Somewhere deep inside
of her, a part of Ami was praying that this girl was just a friend.
Ranma's laugh was bitter, but not grating.

"Naw. Fiancée."

"Fiancée?" Ami almost slumped in defeat. That
something from before rallied behind her and forced her to not just
roll over and give up. She hadn't against Beryl, or any of her other
challenges for that matter, why start now?

"Pardon me for saying this, but don't you think that you're
a bit young for that?"

Ranma laughed again.

"I told Pops the exact same thing when he arranged the whole
deal. He didn't seem to think so." Ami looked at the boy across
from her with sympathy.

"An arranged marriage. Doesn't sound very romantic."

Ranma shrugged his shoulders.

"I ain't much into romance. It was an honor thing. Marry a
daughter from the Tendo clan to join the two schools." Ami's
interest perked at the mention of school.

"Schools?"

"Yeah the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryuu; the Tendo and Saotome schools
of Indiscriminate Grappling. Though I don't much care for the name.
I'm kinda partial to Anything-Goes Martial Arts."

Ami quirked her brow at the name, but didn't say anything about
it. "So you're a martial artist?"

The question didn't phase him. "Yeah." There was no blustering
pride in his statement. It was just a fact. It's what and who he
was.

"She thought so." Ranma turned his back to Ami, finishing
up the rest of the buttons. A sinking feeling settled in the pit
of her stomach as she instinctively stepped closer to the young
man.

"Something happened " She didn't want to go here.
This was his business. She didn't need to know the details.

"Yeah." His voice was quiet and taut with emotion. "One
of my opponents " He sighed. It would all come out eventually.
He needed to start talking about it; otherwise it was going to kill
him.

"My opponent used her as leverage against me in a fight. I
couldn't save her in time."

Ami gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Tears started
to well up in her eyes, and she gingerly reached out a trembling
hand that never quite reached Ranma's back.

"I I'm so sorry," she stammered. Ranma shrugged
and turned back to her.

"Don't worry about it." Ami couldn't meet his eyes. "Really.
It's okay. I'm working through it." He tried to sound positive,
but somehow he knew that his words had come out hollow.

Ami hugged herself. Here she was, a living reminder of everything
that he had lost how cruel. "I should go,"
she said quietly.

Ranma gently took her arm as she passed, and somehow ended up holding
her hand. Looking at her then, he knew that he didn't want her to
leave. She filled something inside of him that had been dead for
a very long time. When he looked at her, the pain didn't hurt so
much either.

He smiled warmly, causing the butterflies to return to Ami's stomach.
His touch was so firm, and those eyes seemed to come alive again
for an instant.

"It hurts." He reluctantly released her hand. "But
not so much when you're around."

The libido threw up its collective hands and gave in. It had already
lost this war that much was certain. Ami blushed and awkwardly
turned away.

"Friends?" Ranma's hand slid into her line of sight,
causing her to look up at him.